I was the one that you Loved
by Cicilianna
Summary: [WIP] Mia's ruler of Genovia, Michael's a Special Agent. Tina and Boris are acting weird, a serial killer's on the loose. What on Earth is going on? Answer page 42. Chapter ten is [finally] up! R&R please
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: It is not mine- Meg Cabot owns it. **

**AN: Reviews are greatly appreciated! **

"There is a message from the Prime Minister postponing your meeting with him tomorrow until a later date, there is a letter from the head of the Racing Society complaining about your taking away of their 'Royal Society' status due to cruelty to horses, there is a letter from the head of the Genovian Olive association about...excuse me, your majesty, I shall just check what that is about...err...oh, and there is a letter from a Mrs Tina Pelkowski."

The harassed looking receptionist handed over the letters.

The new Queen Amelia of Genovia sorted through the letters, took one out of the pile and forced the rest back into the hands of the receptionist. She ran down the corridor, calling over her shoulder, "Please don't disturb me, I'm rather busy! I'll be back for the rest later!"

The receptionist, whose name was Emily-Rose, sighed. The Queen had a lot to learn about decorum.

Queen Amelia Mignonette Thermopolis Renaldo curled up on the spacious king-sized bed in her private bedroom, having first locked the door and placed a chair in front of it.

She kicked off her heels and opened the letter.

_Dear Mia (or should I call you Queen Amelia of Genovia?),_

_It's Tina! Tina Pelkowski! I am so sorry I wasn't there for your coronation, but Boris and I were busy getting married on that day, so you know...!_

_I'M MARRIED! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!_

_Boris proposed to me on our first night in California (in what sounds like a typical novel, Boris' aunt died and left him her house in California.). We moved down here two months ago, and on the first night, with us both all covered in dust and God only knows what else, we went onto the beach and he proposed!_

_I, of course, said yes. (There's a photo enclosed of us on our wedding day). It was a wonderful day, the sun shone and it was just immediate family and friends as the church was too small to fit anyone else inside!_

_I write romance novels (my latest book, **Cold Hearted**, hits the shelves in two days. It's not the most likely ending...but if I say any more, I shall spoil it for you!) It is my fifth novel, yet I still love being recognised on the streets for my work! (There's a photo of me inside the dust-jacket- of course!)_

_Boris plays his violin professionally now- he has a new CD in the making, which is quite exciting for us both!_

_I haven't told Boris this yet, so keep it quiet, but I haven't been feeling too good in the mornings lately and I've missed a period, so maybe...just maybe...!_

_But childbirth would be so painful; I'm not sure what to wish for!_

_Anyway, I didn't write this letter to blather on about myself! No, I wrote to ask if you would like to come and stay over here for a week or two- we have LOADS of room to spare. Let me know any time that is convenient to you!_

_From_

_Mrs Tina Pelkowski _

Mia finished reading the letter and drew out the photograph of Tina and Boris. They both looked so happy.

Then she carefully placed the photo and letter back inside the envelope.

She had a phone call to make.

_To be continued..._

**I know it's rather short, but I'll try to make the next chapter longer! Please review- I'll try and reply. Michael comes in a bit later. **

**Anna D**


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: The Princess Diaries belongs to Meg Cabot, not me.**

**AN: To Chrissie, hope your tonsillitis gets better soon. **

**Also, is anyone out there interested in becoming a beta reader? Please e-mail/send me a message if you are! Anna**

It was at times like these, when she was lying in an enormous bathtub, filled to the brim with hot water and smelling of roses, with candles sparkling in the background, her favourite music playing softly on the stereo and a box of chocolates all for her, that Mia thought there may be something in this queen business after all.

She lay back and let the water flow around her body.

Although she would never have admitted it, Mia was very beautiful. She had developed from lanky teenager into a tall curvaceous adult (admittedly one with big feet) - in fact, her male staff often joked that if the royal thing went down the drain, she could get a future in the modelling industry.

She recalled the conversation she had had earlier with her secretary.

"You want me to cancel ALL your events in the next two weeks?" cried Emily-Rose in horror. "ALL of them? Even the meeting with Greenpeace?" It was no secret in the royal household that Queen Amelia had been looking forward to that meeting for ages.

"Yes, Emily-Rose, all of them. Tell them that the Queen is very sorry, but she has most pressing other matters, and she will get back to them as soon as possible. I want all my meetings, luncheons and other dates cancelled until at least July 31st," Mia replied.

"May I enquire why, your majesty?" asked a rather annoyed sounding Emily-Rose.

"You may," replied Mia.

"Why?" asked Emily-Rose.

"I received a letter from a friend with some rather good news. I am going to go and visit her," replied Mia.

"Oh," said Emily-Rose.

"Thank you ever so much for doing that, Emily-Rose. You are an angel!" said Mia as she put down the phone.

Satisfied that the phone call had persuaded Emily-Rose to do what she asked, Mia loaded up her computer.

First, she dialled up her e-mail.

**_Dear Mrs Tina Pelkowski,_**

**_Thank you so much for your letter and CONGRATULATIONS ON GETTING MARRIED _TO BORIS! I'm so sorry I couldn't be there for you, but, as you say, the whole coronation/wedding thing happening on the same day was not a good plan. **

**Do you really think you might be pregnant? I am so happy for you! And don't worry; I won't breathe a word to Boris! (I guess poor Prince William is finally out of the running then? I am sure he's devastated!)**

**I would love to come and stay with you in California- would Tuesday be too short notice for you? When you e-mail me back, could you send directions to your house and suitable times, etc? Thanks ever so.**

**Hope to her from you soon,**

**Queen Mia xxx **

Once she had sent her e-mail, she typed Tina's name into Google. She clicked on the most likely looking link.

**Welcome to my website! My name is Tina Hakim-Baba and I write romance novels! I love to here from readers, so please feel free to e-mail me (address is at the bottom of the page) and I will try to respond to you.**

**Here is a list of my books, in the order they were published. **

**- For Lovers Only**

**- Dear Mr Jones**

**- A Star for You **

**- Childhood Sweetheart (a personal biography)**

**- Cold Hearted (coming soon)**

Mia ordered all her books, waited until they arrived and took the first into the bathroom, so she could read whilst she was lying in the bathtub. Another good thing about being royal- anything you ordered to half an hour at the longest to arrive.

An hour and a half later, she was lying in bed, thinking of someone she shouldn't have been.

Michael.

She had broken up with him when she was seventeen. He had---. No. She wasn't going to think about it. She was going to fall asleep and dream about going to California.

_She rolled over and kissed him gently on the lips. _

"_Mmmn," he moaned._

"_Michael!" she said softly. "It's time to get up!"_

"_Huh?" he said._

"_It's time to get up!" she said, slightly louder. _

"_Can't I just stay in bed?" he mock-whined._

"_You were the one who asked me to get you up early so you wouldn't be late for class!" she said._

"_I know, I know," he said, rolling out of bed. _

_Mia closed her eyes and rolled over. 15 minutes later, he lent over her and kissed the top of her head. "Mia," he said, "I've got to go. But I'll be back soon, I promise. There's something I have to tell you."_

"_What?" she said sitting up suddenly. "What to you have to tell me?"_

"_When I get back!" he called over his shoulder, exiting first the bedroom and then the flat. _

**Two hours later:**

"_Mia? Mia? Mia, where are you?" he called, entering the flat._

"_In the lounge," she called back. She looked up as he entered the room. "Grandmere told me to choose a dress for the ball that's coming up. Which one do you think, this red one here, or this blue one, or the pink one?"_

"_Umm..." he said._

"_I think the blue one would most go with your suit if you wore a blue tie," Mia gabbled on. "But the pink one is the prettiest by far."_

"_Mia," interrupted Michael. "Mia, listen."_

"_I'm listening," she replied, looking up at him. "What's up? Is it this ball? If you're busy on the night, I'm sure someone else would escort me. I don't blame you if you're sick to the back teeth of balls and other social events!"_

"_Mia," he said. "I love you. I always have done and I always will. Always remember that."_

"_Oh, Michael," said Mia. "I...I...I love you too..."_

"_But I don't think we can go on like this," he continued._

"_W-what?" said Mia._

"_Me and you. Together. We've had our time, but... well, in a year you'll be 18. Your Grandmother will be looking to marry you to someone. And I don't think I'm the right person to marry you," he said, looking away. _

"_Michael!" exclaimed Mia. "I don't care! I don't care about the whole 'you're not royal' thing! I don't care! We can work around my Grandmother! She'll come round eventually. And anyway, she can't do anything about it. She can't stop us from getting married if we want to!"_

"_Mia," Michael cut across her as her voice grew higher and higher. "Mia. I love you. But can you imagine what the public would think of us? Come on. It just wouldn't work."_

"_So you're breaking up with me, is that it?" Mia asked, her voice tremulous. _

"_Mia we've had a good time together. But our relationship has drawn to a natural close. The curtain has fallen. It's been fun, but we shouldn't push it. I'm sure you'll be fine without me."_

""_Fun!"" she shrieked. "We've had fun together! Is that all you can say?"_

"_Look, I know, that came out all wrong. I didn't mean for it to sound like that!" Michael said, desperatly._

_"Well, if that's how you feel," replied Mia, "then I guess I'll have to go."_

_She walked out of the flat before he could see her tears._

Mia rolled over with a start. She blinked twice. She had been dreaming...there were tears on her face. She couldn't remember her dream...but she had a good idea whom was about. She dreamt about the same person every night.


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: It doesn't belong to me- it belongs to Meg Cabot. Don't sue me- I own nothing.**

Special Agent Michael Moscovitz walked along the corridor purposefully, nodding his head to people, but never speaking.

It was an unwritten rule there that one got on with one's own business, and one did not draw attention to one's self by talking too much.

Michael turned right down the whitewashed corridor and pressed his hand against the handprint detector on the wall. Then he swiped his card and entered his PIN number in the mini-computer on the wall. Finally, it bleeped in recognition.

"Michael Moscovitz!" said the computerised female voice. "Welcome to the office of the director of special operations!" The door swished open.

He had gone through the same procedure to enter the building, and to enter the third floor.

At first, when he had joined the agency, he had found the process strange, but he was so used to it now, he found it strange when a door _didn't _ask him for ID.

"Special Agent Moscovitz!" boomed the voice of the director of special operations. "Are you going to stand there all day, or are you going to enter?"

"Sorry sir!" replied Michael. "I was on leave so..." he trailed off as he saw the mans frown. He had forgotten unwritten rule no. 2. _Do NOT complain about being pulled off leave._

Michael cleared his throat. "Special Agent Michael Moscovitz reporting for duty, sir!" he said.

The Director grinned. "Have a seat, Moscovitz!" he said, motioning to the chair in front of him. "Look, I'll tell you now, I'm sorry to have to pull you off leave, but there were only four likely candidates for this task- yourself, Peters, Johnston and Collins. Peters has broken his leg, Johnston's wife is in labour and Collins is just too inexperienced."

Michael nodded. He wondered what kind of a mission he would be sent on this time.

"Know this place?" asked the director, flicking a button so a picture of a white-sanded beach flicked up onto the projection screen behind them.

Michael studied it. "No sir," he said. "Can't say I've seen it before, but I've seen beaches like it in travel brochures before. California, is it?"

"Correct," said the director. "Cove Town beach, California. There are a couple of other beaches where our man has been operating, but this is the main one."

"Our man?" asked Michael, puzzled.

"Over the past month, eight bodies have turned up on this beach, washed ashore by the tide, three on the beach up the road and two on a beach down the road," replied the director.

"That sounds like an abnormally large number of people drowning sir, but surely it can be attributed to the holiday season just beginning and irresponsible tourists being swept out by freak currents?" asked Michael, still puzzled.

"You would think so," replied the director. "But take a look at...lets say five of the victims."

"The first victim was-" the director broke off at a knock on the door. He opened the video screen. The face of his PA, Gabriella Knock, formed on it.

"I've brought your coffee sir," she said.

"Come in," he said.

She entered, looking apologetic. "I'm sorry to disturb your meeting," she said, meekly. She handed him a cup. "Mr Moscovitz, how do you take your coffee?"

"Black, one sugar," Michael replied.

Gabriella placed a sugar cube in the cup and left, leaving the bowl of sugar cubes on the desk.

The Director waited until Gabriella had left before continuing with the slide show. "The first victim was Charlotte Paradise," he said.

The woman on the screen was wearing what Michael took to be a prom dress- pink, sleeveless number, which accentuated her model-like stance. Her long, platinum blonde hair hung loosely around her shoulders and her blue eyes twinkled brightly. She looked like she was having the time of her life.

"She was holidaying during a gap year with some friends from New York, where she lived. Her father owns a small business and is quite rich. She decided to go down to the beach for a swim on her own, as she was very sporty, when she didn't return. Her friends reported her missing to the police, who went to the coastguards. No trace of her was found until the following morning, when her body was swept ashore."

"And I guess it was assumed she got caught out by the current?" asked Michael.

The Director nodded. The next picture flashed up. This one was of a small girl of Latin-American origin, wearing micro-shorts and a bikini top.

"Rosa Beladiso. Father an expert cook, very rich, has taught some of the best. Went into the sea in broad daylight and never returned alive," said the director. "Again it was assumed that she drowned."

The next picture flashed up. The girl in this photo was pretty, but not stunning like Charlotte and Rosa had been. She had long honey brown hair, brown eyes and a tan; she was tall and slim but looked awkward in the expensive red dress she was wearing.

"Mary Middleton, daughter of Lord and Lady Middleton- English, holidaying here in America. Her parents were out at a party and she told them she was going to have dinner with a friend. We don't know who the friend was- not even if the person was male or female- , but she was missing for five days. Her parents put out pleas for her safe return, or for her to contact them, but on the evening of the sixth day her body was swept ashore."

The screen changed again. A perfectly poised Chinese girl appeared on the screen, looking straight ahead with a solemn face, but a slight twitch of the lips, as the person photographing her was about to make her burst out laughing.

"Li Cottonson- rich Chinese mother and American father- missing after going shopping on her own along the pier in broad daylight. Swept ashore the following evening."

The final picture flashed up. Another young girl, of black origin, in a dark red bikini, was lying on a beach smiling seductively at the camera.

"Same story with Catherine Charleston, daughter of Mike Charleston, the baseball player from Minnesota. Goes missing and turns up a few hours or days later, swept ashore by the tide. The interesting thing about this story though, is that Catherine had a fear if water and couldn't swim she would never go voluntarily into the sea to a depth of past her knees."

The director turned off the slideshow.

"After the next victim- a Rachel Windershon- had been found drowned along the shoreline, the local police began to put two and two together," said the director.

"They realised that all the victims had been young women between the ages of 19 and 26. They were all good-looking, and had rich or well-known parents. They realised that the crimes had not been race related, as there were people from lots of different backgrounds."

"What did the police do?" asked Michael.

"What they could," replied the director. "They still don't have a clue who is doing this. They are advising women not to go out alone, but seeing as several of the kidnappings happened in broad daylight...they're out of their depth!"

"Where do I fit in?" asked Michael. "I don't think I could pass off as a chick and go undercover in that way very well!"

The director let out a rare smile.

"No, I don't think that would work. And in any case, they've already tried it with another agent," he shook his head. "I'm afraid she went missing in action..." his voice trailed away.

"But I still don't see where I fit into all of this," said Michael, puzzled.

"You will in a minute," said the director. "But first..." he loaded up a picture onto the screen behind him...do you recognise this person?"

"I think I've seen her before somewhere..." said Michael. But I'm not sure where. It might have been...no, I don't think so."

"No?" asked the director, as Michael took a gulp of coffee. "This is a picture of Queen Amelia of Genovia."

Michael spat out the coffee into his mug. "W-w-what?" he gasped. _Mia? It **couldn't **be!_

"You know her?" asked the director.

"Knew her," corrected Michael. "I went out with her when we were teenagers."

The director looked uncertain. "Oh...I...err..." he said.

"What about her?" asked Michael in a _this is purely professional _tone of voice.

"Well, we have been tracking some e-mails she has sent to a friend, and it seems that she is coming to stay in California where our man has been operating. She doesn't want her visit publicized in anyway, but neither did the other victims," said the director.

"And you want me to go and be her bodyguard, right?" asked Michael.

"Not exactly," said the director. "I want you to pose as a lifeguard."

_**AN: Thanks to Di-Pekka for beta reading for me:-)**_

**_AN2: Yeah, I know, I changed my pen-name_**

**_AN3: This will probably be the last entry from me before Christmas, so I wish you all a Merry Christmas!_**


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Princess Diaries series or films. If I did, I would not be sitting at a computer in England, where it is raining; I would be somewhere very warm and sunny on a beach in a bikini with my family and friends. **

**A/N: Well, after taking a festive break, I'm back! And there's nothing to stop me! ...except a truckload of coursework and a brother who wants to use the computer. But, I've told him that I'm doing homework...don't look at me like that. I was when he asked!**

**To my reviewers: you are wonderful, lovely, kind, insert adjective here, etc. Special thanks goes to _Coolkitten12_, _The Setting Sun25 _and _Di-Pekka _for what they said in their reviews. Thank you guys! **

**Also, I would like to point out that this story is based on the books, not the movies, even though it is set when Mia has grown up.**

**Thanks to _Di Pekka _for beta reading this!**

* * *

Mia disembarked of the public plane, with no red carpet in front of her, with no one to take her arm or to offer her some refreshment, and went to collect her own suitcases, with no one to offer to do that for her.

Sometimes, yes, it was nice to be royal; but sometimes Mia wished she could go back to the good old days of going out to the shop to buy some toothpaste herself, of ordering the Chinese herself, of making her own bed, of packing her own bags, of setting the table herself, and not having a red carpet rolled out in front of her 24/7.

Standing in the crowd, where no one recognised her, waiting for her friend to arrive, with her luggage weighing her down, was to some people mundane, but to Mia pure bliss. She craned her neck, looking for Tina and Boris.

"Mia! Mia! Over here!" called a voice that she recognised.

She turned and looked over her shoulder. A pretty woman with long black hair, tied back in a thick plait was calling her.

"Tina!" Mia cried. She ran towards her. The two women met and hugged.

"I can't believe you came!" said Tina. "I invited you, but I never thought that you would be able to come..."

Mia winked. "I used some persuasive techniques and..._Voila_! Here I am!" she replied.

"But what about your bodyguard?" asked Tina. "Shouldn't you be-?"

Mia cut her off. "I told Lars that if he saw me off at the airport, he could have a holiday and I'd meet up with someone at the other end to be my bodyguard."

"Well, shouldn't we go and find him?" asked Tina, looking around as if she expected a man in a black t-shirt with **_Bodyguard _**printed on it to jump out and wave.

"No," said Mia.

"What?" asked Tina, confused.

"I'm not going to have a bodyguard."

"Why? Isn't that a bit dangerous? What if something happened to you? What would you do?" asked Tina.

"Tina. Nothing is going to happen to me. I'm going to be fine. No one is going to try to kidnap me or anything because no one recognises me. I'm _fine_!" Mia replied.

Tina still looked doubtful. "Are you sure? I mean, I know that-"

"TINA!" yelled Mia. "For the last time! I WILL BE FINE! Repeat that!"

"You will be fine," mumbled Tina.

"Thank you!" cried Mia, sounding exasperated. "Now that we have that quite clear, where's Boris?"

**

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**

"**WHAT!**" exploded Michael, not caring that this was the Director of Special Operations, and talking to him in that tone of voice could have him fired.

"I said 'I want you to pose as a lifeguard,'" repeated the Director.

"Me? A _lifeguard_?" Michael gasped.

The Director nodded. "You have the basic qualification all agents working in the field of special operations are required to have. You will renew your licence this afternoon," he paused. "There is also the issue of disguise."

Michael looked wary.

"You say you knew Princess Amelia Mignonette Thermopolis Renaldo when you were younger?" asked the director.

Michael nodded.

"Then it is important she does not recognise you."

"But how..?" asked Michael.

"Think. Lifeguards."

"Erm..? Tanned? Blonde hair?"

"Yes," said the Director. "Tan. Blonde hair."

"But how am I..?" asked Michael. Than he noticed the expression on the Director's face. "OH no. No. You wouldn't do that. Really, you _wouldn't _do that!"

"Oh yes," said the Director with a smile. "Yes I would."

**

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**_Downtown California_**

"Well?"

"Q-q-queen Amelia Mignonette Thermopolis Renaldo," stated the man in a trembling voice.

"And she is?" asked the voice, imposingly.

"Q-queen of Genovia," said the man.

"Where on _Earth _is Genovia?" asked the voice.

"I-in World Civ you have to do a-" the voice cut him off.

"I asked you, where is Genovia," said the voice coldly. "Not, what subjects did you take in High School!"

"Y-yes, I'm s-sorry," stuttered the man. "It's in Europe, a small country, somewhere between France and Italy."

The head belonging to the voice nodded.

"Riiiiiight," said the voice slowly. "And where will Queen Amelia be staying while she is in California?"

The man replied.

"Oh," said the voice, genuinely surprised. "OH!" The head belong to the voice smiled.

It was not a nice smile; it was a smile full of evil, and hatred and above all, hysterical happiness.

"Queen Amelia had better start watching her back!"

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**Please Review**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: No, it does not belong to me...but if it did...**

**A/N THANK YOU to anyone who took the time to review chapter four. It really pleases me when people say they like my work- but I'm not against constructive criticism. Please, if you feel there is an element of my writing that could be improved upon, tell me!**

**However, _nancy_ the anonymous reviewer, I have left you a message on the reviews page. And if you don't like my story, you don't have to read it. **

**Also, once again, thank you to Di Pekka for beta reading this for me.**

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"You seriously wouldn't," he repeated, standing up and hastily backing off.

"Michael," replied the Director. "You knew when you took this job that you would be getting into some...unusual situations."

"Yes but...oh, what the hell. I'll do it," Michael conceded.

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Mia hung the dress up in the wardrobe and turned back the empty suitcase. Shoving it roughly underneath the bed, she flopped down and gave contented sigh.

She looked around the room.

Apart from the floral décor, the room was nice. It wasn't huge- there was a desk with a chair, a bed, a wardrobe and a chest-of-drawers- but it was light and airy and made a huge change from her suite at the palace.

There was a knock on the door and Tina entered. "You like?" She asked.

"I like," replied Mia. "It's very nice!"

Tina raised her eyebrows.

"No, I'm serious!" Replied Mia. "OK, I'm not too struck on the décor, but its make so much of a change to what life is like at the palace."

"Mmmn," said Tina. "Yes, we haven't got round to storing out all of the rooms yet- Boris' Aunt did have a bit of a weird taste in furnishings!"

They grinned.

"Tina?" Asked Mia. The other girl was staring off into the distance with a hand on her stomach. "Are you OK?"

Tina pressed her lips tightly together. Her face was white. She shook her head. She raced out of the room.

Mia followed her into the bathroom. She was sick violently into the toilet. Mia found a flannel and a clean cup on the side of the bathtub. She filled the glass and soaked the flannel with cold water.

Tina flushed the toilet, put the lid down and sat on top of it. Tears streamed down her face.

Mia handed her the glass.

"Sip it slowly," she ordered, gently placing the flannel on her forehead.

Gradually, Tina's sobs petered out.

"Thanks," she said with a sniff. "Must have been that revolting wallpaper that made me ill!"

"Is there anything you want to tell me about?" Asked Mia, softly.

"No...yes," said Tina. "I'm sorry I evaded your question at the airport."

When Mia had asked where Boris was, Tina had ignored her and called for a taxi instead. Mia got the message and didn't ask again, but she was still curious. However, she respected her friend and new that she would tell her what was wrong, eventually.

"I got a test the other day," she half whispered. "It came out positive. Mia, I'm going to have a baby!" Tears filled her eyes again.

"But Tina, that's great news!" Cried Mia enthusiastically. "I bet Boris will be over the moon! He'll...oh. That's the problem, isn't it?"

Tina nodded. "I thought the other day 'he's spending a lot of time at the recording studio- I mean he does have a new CD in the making, but it was 8:30pm, and he was supposed to be taking me out to dinner at six and it's not like him to be late and not call."

"So what happened?"

"So I thought that I would ring up the recording studio and ask him what he was doing," continued Tina.

"Then what happened?" Asked Mia.

"Well Elaine- that's his secretary, she very nice- picks up the phone, and I go "where's Boris?". She goes "oh, he went home ages ago!" I was horrified! I asked what time he left and she said that he left at five because he was going to take me to dinner," she replied.

Mia's eyes grew wide.

"So I called his mobile but I just got voicemail. I left a message, but never got a reply. I was starting to get worried!"

"Then Elaine called again- it was 9:00 now- and said that they were closing the studio and had Boris returned home yet? But he hadn't, so she suggested that I call the police because it had been four hours since anybody had seen him.

"Did you call them?" Asked Mia. "What did they say?"

"Just as I picked up the phone, who was to walk through the door but-"

Mia finished the sentence for her. "Boris!"

Tina nodded. Tears began to flow down her face again. "So I asked him where he'd been."

"And?" Asked Mia, quietly.

"He said that he'd been at the restaurant and was waiting for me to arrive! I didn't know which restaurant he was supposed to be taking me to, but when I told him this he said that I was supposed to have known that he was going to take me to the restaurant where he proposed...I didn't know!"

She was sobbing now. "And I asked him why he had ignored my call and he said that he was using his phone- calling me and I didn't answer and I said that he was being-"

Mia cut her off. "It'll be OK!" She soothed.

"No, it won't!" Cried Tina. "That was the day I took the test- I was going to tell him that night! Mia, I've got his baby growing inside me and he's with another woman!"

"You don't know that for sure," said Mia.

"I don't need anyone to tell me!" Tina replied. "It's pretty obvious! He's constantly late home and offers awful excuses, which don't make sense! We've only been married three months- am I really that awful?"

"No, Tina, you're-" Mia started to reassure her, but she broke off as a door slammed open downstairs.

"Tina? Tina, where are you?"

"I'm...I'm upstairs," she replied shakily. "No don't come up Boris!" She called as she heard a noise on the stairs. "I'll come down. I'm just showing Mia to her room!"

She turned to Mia, looking frightened. "What do I do?"

"Clean your teeth, brush your hair and wash your face in cool water- it'll stop tearstains showing. I'll go downstairs and talk to Boris and tell him you're in the loo or something," hissed Mia. "Quickly!"

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The Director looked up as the door to his office swung open. He looked up, confused. "Who are...oh, it's you Michael."

Michael was now blonde, tanned and looking very cross.

"Cheer up!" Said the Director. "At least you won't have any trouble looking for women!"

"Very funny!" Snapped Michael.

"This is your stuff...new ID, lifesaving certificate, mission brief etc, I suggest you read through those on the plane. Here's your suitcase of clothes and other such things... and... well... good luck, I guess!" Said the Director.

"Thanks sir," said Michael, turning and walking out of the office. He was so busy muttering crossly to himself that he didn't realise he'd turned the wrong way until, instead of walking into the lift doors; he walked into a brick wall.

"Wrong way, Michael!" Called the Director, who was standing in the doorway of his office, with a small grin on his face.

"Yes sir," muttered a very embarrassed Michael.

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**A/N you see that nice looking button at the bottom of the page? The one that says submit review? Yeah? Well click it. ;-)**


	6. Chapter 6

**_DISCLAIMER:_ Own I do not. Sue me you will not. Happy now, we all are. Yoda doing impersonations of am I. **

**A/N Di Pekka for beta reading I thank.**

**Review you must.**

**Stop with the Yoda thing now shall I. **

**I know a lot of people weren't happy with the fact that I made Michael blonde and tan. I'm sorry! But, the story would work without it. If I go down on my knees and beg, will you forgive me? **

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HAPPY NEW YEAR

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She stood up and stretched. "Tina, I'm going to go and paddle in the sea for a bit," said Mia. "Do you want to come? Or shall you just stay here and read?"

"I'll just stay here and read. Go and flirt with the lifeguards by yourself!" Replied her friend with a small smile. "I'll look after your stuff."

"I'm not going to flirt with the lifeguards!" Cried Mia, indignantly. "As if I would do a thing like that!"

"Mia, how many boyfriends have you had since you broke up with Michael?" Asked Tina.

"Umm...well, if you don't count the numerable princes Grandmere tried to set me up with, none," replied her friend.

"Exactly!" Stated Tina, triumphantly.

"Er...exactly?" Asked Mia, confused. "Exactly what?"

"You need to spice up your love life!"

"Tina, just 'cause they're fit doesn't mean I want to get off with-" began Mia.

"No, I didn't mean the lifeguards!" Dismissed Tina. "Although that cute blonde one keeps staring at you!" They both turned to stare at him.

"Tina, one, this isn't high school, two, you're married! And three, I have to marry Mr Right-For-Genovia, not Mr Right-For-Mia!" Snapped her friend. "I'd love to spend my time on the beach, eyeing up fit men, but some of us have a country to run!"

Tina looked hurt.

"I know Mia. I know you're a Princess. I know you have to marry for your country. I know this isn't high school. And I know I'm married- I am allowed to have eyes, though, aren't I?" Asked her friend, making her eyes big wide and innocent. "And anyway," she added, the mirth leaving her voice, "I don't think Boris would give a damn if I eloped with another man."

"Oh, Tina," anger left her friend's voice, to be replaced with sadness. "Don't talk like that. I was teasing!"

"I know, Mia, I know," replied Tina. "When I work up the courage, I'll have Words with Boris. And they'll be words with a capital 'w'!"

Mia giggled. "Tina, I can't imagine you having 'words' with anybody!"

Tina smiled. "You never know, Amelia, you never know! Now, go have a swim- and have fun...nobody knows you're a Queen, do they?"

Mia smiled and slipped off her sarong. She sauntered down to the sea, earning five wolf-whistles on the way. She pretended not to notice, though the curl of her lip into a small smile as she walked past the lifeguard Tina had pronounced as fit was obvious.

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There she was. Michael, alias John Weston, lifeguard on a Californian beach, spotted her a mile off.

He could pick her out in a crowd as easily as he could pick out his own mother...he'd stared at the photograph of her he'd received constantly.

She looked so different from the girl he'd known as a teenager...yet he knew she must be the same person.

He wondered if she still kept a diary. She was talking with her friend; someone he should know, but he couldn't place...Tina! Tina Hakim-Baba! That was her name-

They were staring at him. Hastily, he looked down, finding the rock he was sitting on the most interesting thing since...well, since anything.

Hopefully they would think he was staring at Mia's body, not for any other reason (the reson being the fact he was a special agent assigned to protect her) and, for the love of all that was holy, he hope they hadn't recognised him.

He was pretty sure they hadn't- he had hardly recognised himself when he looked in the mirror to shave that morning.

She began to pick her way down to the sea front, wearing a pink bikini that was made out of less material than a flannel, and gaining four wolf-whistles along the way.

Just to be sure that she didn't guess what he was really here for; he also gave her a whistle.

Her lip curled into a small, unwilling smile and she looked at him flirtatiously out of the corner of her eye, blushing.

He smiled easily back. She ignored him, and waded into the sea.

* * *

This was the life.

It really, really was.

The sea was warm, the sky was clear; everything was _perfect_!

Mia lay on her back and closed her eyes. Everything was perfect.

Not quite everything.

She worried about Tina. Last night had been OK; in fact, if she hadn't known that there was something going on between Tina and Boris, she never would have guessed.

He came home, they got "re-introduced" as she hadn't seen him since...well, anyway, Tina made dinner whilst he showered and changed, they had dinner, watched some television, talked and went to bed.

It was only later, when Tina came into her room at about 10:30, to check everything was OK, that Mia saw pain in her eyes and face.

She realised her friend really did believe Boris was cheating on her.

She resolved to talk again to her friend later that day.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and _Holy--!_

_What the hell is going on?_

_I can't breathe!_

_I'm being pulled underwater! _

_Someone has a hold of my legs!_

_They're pulling me backwards. _

_I'm underwater!_

_Somebody do something!_

She managed to bring her head above the water for a few seconds.

"HELP!" She screamed. "SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP ME!"

She was vaguely aware of her assaulter letting go of her legs, but it was too late.

She was exhausted from struggling. The tide leapt around her, pulling her under...why was it that she could only seem to take breaths when she was underwater?

She was choking. No, she was drowning.

_Drowning..._

_Drowning..._

_Drown... ..._

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What was happening to her?

She was failing around, her head popping above the water for a few seconds, gasping for breath, her face a mask of pure terror.

_Bloody hell, Michael! You're a lifeguard! You're also a special agent! You're being paid to protect her! And... you loved her. _This was the side of him that sounded like the director speaking.

_Love her. _He corrected himself.

_Then get your ass in that sea NOW!_

He ran out into the water, the tide pushing against him. People scattered out of his way like Moses parting the Red Sea. He struck out as soon as possible, his strong body propelling him through the water.

She was bobbing around like a cork when he reached her. He grabbed her and turned her over. Her eyes were closed, but she was breathing, thank God.

"Mia," he cried. "Mia!"

She opened her eyes and tried to sit up.

Remembering he was not supposed to know what she was called he said, "Miss? Miss, are you OK?"

**

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_Drowning..._

_Drowning..._

_Drowning..._

From a long way off, she heard her name being called.

"Mia. Mia!"

_Tina?_

_No, it was a mans voice._

_Michael?_

_No! She hadn't seen him for years...not since that fateful day when she had..._

Opening her eyes, she struggled to sit up.

"Miss?" the voice asked. "Miss, are you OK?"

She was being held in the arms of the voice- or rather, the voice belonged to a body (a fit body at that) and the body was holding her close.

She opened her mouth to reply. _I'm fine_ was what was meant to come out. What actually came out was the seawater she had swallowed whilst being dragged underwater.

When she had finished chocking, the man began to help her gently back to the shore.

"What's your name?" She asked when they were about waist deep in the water.

"Me?" Asked the man. "Oh, I'm... John Weston."

"Well, John Weston, you've just saved my life," replied Mia. She buried her face in her hands. "I was going to die!" She gave a muffled sob. "You saved my life!"

"Oh, well, you know... Just doing my job and all that!" Michael responded, awkwardly.

"You've still just saved my life!" Mia repeated. She calmed herself down. "I'm Isabel Brown." Her voice was still slightly shaky.

_Isabel Brown? Where the hell did that come from? Couldn't I have just told him I was called Mia Thermopolis? He'd have no reason to link _me _to the Queen of Genovia!_

"Pleased to meet you, Isabel Brown," said John Weston, holding out his hand for Isabel to shake.

"Pleased to meet _you _John Weston," replied Isabel.

They shook hands.

"Look, I know its all part of your job, and all that, but are you sure I can't do something to repay you?" Asked Isabel. "How about if I take you to dinner tonight?"

"I...I..."

"Oh, I'm sorry. You might have something on tonight. It was pushy of me to ask. I just thought that I ought to repay you for saving my life and-"

"Oh, no! It's not that! If the offer still stands, I'd love to!"

They looked into each other's eyes and smiled. Little did they know what was going to happen that night...

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**A/N This was meant to be the shortest chapter, but it turned out to be the longest. But then, I'm like that.**

**_Cool Kitten 12 _you flatter me. But I like being flattered. So thanks!**

**I was asked in a review if Mia would be Queen of Genovia, because Genovia is a Principality. I have looked everywhere but cannot find the answer. Can anybody help?**

**I know that in the movie she was Queen , but the movie did change an awful lot of things.**


	7. Chapter 7 part I

**DISCLAIMER: Not mine.**

**I made a mistake in all of the previous chapters; I wrote Mia as Queen of Genovia, when she should still be Princess. Sorry!**

**ALL CREDIT for the new title goes to _The Setting Sun25_. It was her idea, and is much better than my ideas.**

**Special thanks go to Di Pekka and the Setting Sun25 for their help and support- you guys rock!

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She looked in the mirror, pleased with the effect. She had applied a little eye shadow, mascara and lip-gloss and tied up her hair, half-up and half-down style. She was wearing a white, short-sleeved and silky top and a floaty blue skirt which came down to her knees, and a pair of gold kitten-heeled sandals.

She didn't want to look too dressed up, as it was not a date, she didn't want to look too formal, as it was not a business dinner and she didn't want to look too casual, as it was not a trip to a bar with friends. She thought she had it just right.

There was a knock on the door and Tina entered. She smiled at Mia, taking in the outfit her friend had decided to wear. "How do I look?" Asked Mia worriedly. "I don't want to look to dressed up, or too much like I'm going on a date, or too much like I'm-"

Tina cut her off. "Mia, you look fine. You have too low a self-image, that's your problem. You are always worrying. Don't. It won't help you." There was a pause, as she looked into her friends eyes seriously. Then her face brightened. "Come into my room for a minute," she said. "I have something for you."

Mia followed her friend into her bedroom. She hadn't seen it before. It was blue and cream, and had little furniture: there was a bed, two big walk-in wardrobes, a chest-of-drawers and a bookshelf. The window was open and the breeze coming in was billowing out the curtains gently.

Tina opened the top drawer of the chest-of-drawers. She drew out a small, velvet box and motioned for Mia to come closer. She showed her the contents.

Inside was a beautiful gold necklace, with a butterfly pendant attached to the end. Mia gasped. "Tina," she said, wonderingly, "It's beautiful!"

Tina blushed. "I got it for your eighteenth birthday- I was going to give it to you then, but you left...and... well...we didn't exactly see each other, or anything. I've kept it for ages and I thought that perhaps you could wear it tonight, for your dinner?"

"Tina!" Mia was amazed. "It's...it's lovely. I'd love to wear it! Thank you so much!" She threw her arms around her friend and hugged her. "I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry I left! I-"

"Mia!" Cried Tina. "It wasn't your fault! No one could have predicted what was going to happen. You have no idea how much I respect you for what you did...leaving us all here and going...over there."

_But she doesn't know the half of it _thought Mia. No one _really _knew. Except Lilly. Even her Mum thought she had just gone over there because---well, anyway.

"Tina, are you _sure _you don't mind me going out and leaving you here tonight?" Asked Mia, worriedly. "You positive?"

"I'm positive, Mia," replied Tina, sighing at the number of times her friend had questioned her that evening. "Look, it's half-past six now. I'd go now, so you can be there first- you are paying after all. You don't want to leave him on his own, waiting for you."

"You're right," said Mia. "I'll go now."

* * *

Isabel Brown sat at the table in the _Spindrift _restaurant that overlooked the sea. She had booked a table outside- on the decking they could watch the sunset whilst they ate. She waited for John Weston to turn up.

"_Funny,"_ she thought. "_I haven't been on a dinner date that was nothing to do with Genovia since...well, since that night with Michael..." _

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"_Anything else, Sir?" The waiter enquired of Michael._

"_No, I'm fine thanks. Mia?" Michael replied._

_She shook her head. "I'm fine thanks as well."_

"_Very well, your meals should be along in about forty-five minutes," said the waiter. "I shall bring your drinks in a few minutes."_

"_Thank you," they replied. _

_The waiter left and there was an awkward pause for a minute or two. "I was just-" began Mia, just as Michel started up with, "don't you think-"_

_They both smiled. "Sorry," said Michael. "You first."_

"_I was just thinking about...well, about Genovia. Because next year- unless I can persuade Dad to let me go to college or university- I'll be in Genovia."_

"_What do you mean 'if you can persuade your father to let you go to college or university?" Asked Michael. "I thought he was all for letting you go there?"_

"_Yes- the _University of Genovia _to study how to run the country!" Cried Mia, despairingly. _

"_Tell him you don't want to go there," said Michael. "He might listen."_

_The waiter came up to give them their drinks. They thanked him. "You were going to say something?" Asked Mia, meaning the time when they had both spoken._

"_Yeah...nothing important," said Michael._

"_Go on," said Mia. "I'm sure it was."_

"_I...oh, I've forgotten now!" Michael replied, although Mia got the feeling that he hadn't. _

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"Umm...Isabel?" The voice of the man who had rescued her broke her out of her reverie. She shook herself mentally and smiled at him.

"Hi, John!" She smiled at him. "You OK?"

"I'm fine, thanks, and you?" He asked.

"Fine," she replied.

"Look, Isabel, I know this is going to seem really rude of me, but do you mind if I just go and make a phone call for a minute? I normally wouldn't, but it's quite important," he asked.

"No, that's fine, I'll wait here for you," she responded.

* * *

_The rest of the evening was wonderful. They had their meal, and went to a dance. It was nearing midnight when they returned. They would have stayed out for longer, but Michael had classes in the morning._

_They made passionate love that night and fell asleep tangled in each other's arms. Everything was perfect. Until the next afternoon. That was when everything went wrong. _

_Very wrong. _

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In the Directors office, the phone rang. He looked at the caller list.

Moscovitz.

He worried he had done the right thing in sending Michael out there alone. The case was difficult- he himself had no idea who the killer (or even killer**_s_**) were, but he knew that they would be very dangerous.

And if they were as dangerous as they had proven themselves to be, then they were clever. Really clever.

And Michael was young in the scheme of things, which meant he was inexperienced. He was the only one really able to pose as a lifeguard (even though he had told him all the other agents were incapacitated, he still would have used him, even if they weren't).

Sighing, he picked up the phone.

"Michael?"

"Yes, sir."

"Where are you?"

"You won't like it."

"Shock me. It can't be worse than last time."

Michael, hiding in the men's bathroom at _Spindrift _cringed. Last time he had been sent on a special mission he had managed to give the game away as to who he really was too soon, resulting in his capture. The Director himself had had to accompany troops to help to get him out. And he had had the worst "stripping-down" afterwards since the agency had begun. People had joked about it for weeks afterwards, much to his embarrassment.

"I'm in a restaurant having dinner with the Princess."

"You're _what_?"

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"_Mia! Mia! Hello, this is planet Earth calling!"_

"_What..?" Mia blinked twice and looked at her friend. "Sorry...I was kinda far away."_

"_Yeah...thinking about my brother again were you?" _

"_Sorry Lilly, I'll try and concentrate!"_

"_OK, what's wrong with you?" Asked Lily._

"_Wha…?"_

"_You've apologised twice to me in the last five minutes, there's something wrong with you," Lily said._

"_She's right, you know, Mia," said Tina, looking worriedly at her friend. _

"_I'm fine," said Mia._

"_Mia?"_

_She looked away from Tina, tears filling her eyes._

"_There is definitely something wrong with you," said Lily, matter-of-factly. "One, you apologised twice in one minute; two, you looked really, really far away and three, you didn't answer when we asked you if Michael was taking you to the ball. My reasoning suggests that there is something wrong with you and my brother, as you looked awful when you came back from staying the night with him."_

"_Lilly, for God's sake STOP trying to psycho-analyse me all the time!" Mia snapped._

"_Whoa, somebody ate too many bitch-flakes this morning!" Lilly raised her eyebrows so that they were near to bouncing off the roof._

"_SHUT UP, Lilly!"_

"_And you have just proven my point. Twice in fact!"_

"_Lilly, for God's sake, stop being such a smart-arsed-" Mia exploded._

"_ALL RIGHT! I get the message!" Lilly yelled back._

_They glared at each other for a few seconds, and then Mia picked up her bag and stalked out of Lilly's room, muttering darkly. _

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**

"What are you doing there?"

"I...er...well...you see, I was being a lifeguard when I saw someone drowning, so, of course I had to go and rescue them and when I got in the water and pulled the person out, I realised it was Mia...uh, I mean Princess Amelia of Genovia...anyway, she was OK, but after I'd pulled her out and she had calmed down and all the rest of it, she invited me to dinner with her, to thank me for saving her life, and even though I refused the invitation, she cajoled me into coming, which means that I'm here now and also she told me that her name was Isabel Brown and I said that mine was John Weston-"

"For God's sake, Moscovitz, shut up! It was idiotic of you to get into this...er...situation in the first place, but I have a plan to get you out of it," began the Director. "Go back to your table and tell the Princess that the call was about Urgent Family Business and you are _very _sorry but you're afraid you _have _to go."

"What do you mean? What shall I say?" Michael asked, confused.

"I don't know!" The Director exploded. "Tell her your sister has appendicitis, that your brother has broken his leg, your parents are getting divorced- hell, tell her your wife's in labour for all I care, but for God's sake do something!"

"Yes, sir."

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"_Mia!" Yelled Lilly. "Come back!"_

_Tina and Lilly looked at each other as they heard the slam of the apartment door. A second later, a very surprised looking Wakim was rushing after Tina, who was rushing after Lilly, who was rushing after Lars, who was rushing after Mia, who was rushing home. _

_Mia jumped into a taxi (so did Lars) and headed home. Lilly grabbed another taxi and headed to Mia's apartment, and Tina and Wakim headed to Tina's house. (She had told Lilly to tell Mia that she had to get home to look after her sisters as her parents were going out for dinner together)._

_When Lilly arrived at Mia's apartment, Mia was sitting looking at the television with a blank expression on her face, not moving._

"_Mia," began Lilly. "I don't know what you think it is that gives you the right to get in a mood with _me _just because you've fallen out with my brother. I wouldn't-"_

_Mia held up a hand for her to stop. Lilly listened to the television, which was playing in the background. _

"_It is not yet known weather the accident was intentional or not, but it is being likened to Princess Diana's fatal car crash in 1997. We go now to our reporter, live at the incident; Matt, what can you tell us?" The female newsreader, who looked to be in her twenties, looked seriously at the man on the video screen in front of her._

"_Well, Becky, there's not much extra information I can give you. As you can see behind me, it is a very hilly area, and the roads, especially where they were, are high up with a steep slop downwards. The Dowager Princess and the Prince were driving home after a joint interview when a car came shooting towards them."_

"_The driver of the royals' car is believed to have swerved into the cliff to avoid hitting the other car and so that they wouldn't fall off the edge. In doing so he created a landslide, where a big boulder was about to hit the car. He swerved left to avoid it, crashing into the other car and sending both tumbling down the hill," informed 'Matt', the Genovian correspondent._

_The picture switched back to 'Becky' in the studio. "And just to recap on this breaking news story, for those that have just joined us, the Dowager Princess Clarisse Renaldo and her son, Prince Philippe are both now known to be killed in a fatal road accident in North Genovia. We will now return to the---" _

_Mia turned the television off, stared at the blank screen for a second or two, then bolted out of the room, a hand over her mouth. _

_She reached the bathroom just in time. _

**END OF PART ONE**. **Part Two coming...as soon as possible.**

**Kudos for the Setting Sun25 for coming up with the title.**

**If you want to find out why MandM split up, go back and read the end of chapter two (the bit in italics)...but it's really, really rubbish. **

**Please Review!**


	8. Chapter 7 part II

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own it...but if I did...etcetera, etcetera, etcetera**

This chapter is for A VERY SPECIAL FRIEND...who knows who she is...at least I hope she does! Smile, girlfriend!

Also it was pointed out to me that the name of the receptionist in Chapter One was the same as the name of the girl in the film _The Exorcism of Emily-Rose_. This was unintentional- I actually named her for my cousin! I won't change it as she plays no further part in this story.

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**CHAPTER SEVEN, PART II**

"Umm...Isabel?" John asked.

"Huh?" Isabel opened her eyes and saw John standing above her. "Oh, hello John." She smiled up at him. "Have a seat," she added gesturing to the seat opposite her.

"Uh...Isabel, I'm really sorry but I have to go," said John, trying to ignore the look of genuine disappointment that had flashed across Isabel's face, before she managed to hide it.

"Why?" Isabel asked, before adding, "if you don't mind me asking?"

"No it's OK," said John. "It's just...umm...well, this is going to sound silly, but my boss was just on the phone-" _Nothing untruthful there_ he thought to himself, "-and I have to go in to work early tomorrow morning..." he trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

"Oh..." said Isabel, looking disappointed. "Well...I suppose...if you've got work...I mean there must be other young women like me who need saving..."

"Saving?" Asked John.

"Well, you're a Lifeguard, aren't you?" Questioned Isabel.

"No...I mean, yes...I mean..." said John. "Oh, forget it! I'll stay for a bit and tell you."

The waiter came over and brought a bottle of wine. He opened it for them and poured some into both of their glasses. They thanked him and he left. "So, are you a lifeguard, or aren't you?" Isabel asked.

"Well...I studied at college and then went on to get a job with...uh...a computer company, and that's where I've been for the rest of my life!"

"So how did you become a lifeguard?" Isabel questioned. "A job with a computer company is a far cry from being a lifeguard."

He smiled. "My sister- Lilly- dared me to. She said that I was too much of a computer geek to work as a lifeguard. I said that I wasn't and...well...here I am!"

"Lilly?" Asked Isabel. "I used to know someone called Lilly. Lilly Moscovitz. Lived in New York."

"My sister's Lilly Weston. She lives in San Francisco."

Isabel nodded. "So, where are you usually based with your job?" She asked.

John ignored her, looking straight out in front of him onto the sea front. Their table was on a wooden decking platform, which ended, quite literally on the sand. It was far enough away from the edge of the sea not to get flooded, but a quick sprint was all that was needed to get you down there in about thirty seconds.

"John? What are you-" she broke off as he leapt up, knocking the table into her. She grabbed it as her chair went falling backwards and pulled it over, falling onto the floor into a heap of tables, chairs, red wine and food. She heard the woman on the table next to her scream, as she was knocked over by the parasol.

In a matter of seconds the other diners gathered around; two men pulled the table off her and a woman helped her up. Another man helped up the woman who had been knocked over by the flying parasol.

"Are you OK?"

"What on Earth happened?"

"Is there anything I can get you?"

"Are you _sure _you're alright?"

"I'm...fine," said Isabel, her eyes fixed on the shore line. In the distance she could see what John had seen.

A motorboat was heading off into the distance. Where it had stopped there was some splashing, splashing like...like someone was drowning. That must have been why John ran off...he saw that there was someone who needed rescuing. But surely the person in the motorboat must have seen the splashing and tried to rescue the drowning person, instead of running off?

Isabel shook her head. This was confusing. No-one else seemed to have noticed the splashing...but then neither would she, if she hadn't seen John go running into the sea...

"I'm fine," she said again to a woman who was looking at her concernedly. "Really I am."

"What on Earth is going on here?" The Manager stormed out of the main building, looking angrily at Isabel.

"It was awful, Mr Cloves! Terrible! You see, this young lady here was dining with-"

_John's coming back...he'll need some help with that person he has saved...I hope they're both alright...no-one else has noticed...they're all too busy telling the manager what has happened..._ Thoughts were whirring madly around Isabel's head.

"-and then she fell over, and the falling parasol knocked Margaret over, too-"

Isabel walked forward to the end of the decking, to where the floor turned to sand and the beach began. John was half-way back...he was struggling against the tide with the weight of another person as well as his own...

She began to run towards the sea, not caring about the calls for her to come back from the manager.

She reached the shore. "John!" She called. "Are you OK?" She waded waist deep into the water. John was getting closer to her every minute.

"Fine!" He managed to gasp out. He stood up and took the other person- a girl- with him. He waded out to where Isabel was. She pulled one of the girls arms over her shoulder and he did the same with the other. Together, they got to the shore and placed her down gently on the sand. John collapsed on all fours next to her.

"Is...she...breathing?" He gasped out.

"Yes, she is," replied Isabel. "She's not-"

She broke off as the girl rolled onto the sand and began to cough up the water she had swallowed. Isabel held her hair back.

She could see that the girl was either very wealthy, or from a very wealthy background. Her wealth wasn't obvious to a normal person, but Clarisse Renaldo had taught her to see a fake diamond from a real one, designer clothes from their high-street copies, expensive _Chanel _lipstick from teenage strawberry lip-gloss...although this didn't apply in this case, as what little make-up there was left on her face was smudged mascara, forming thin black rivers down her cheeks.

But she was rich, and even though her pastel pink (_"_the _colour of the season, dahling- anyone who's anyone will _not _be seen without it during these few months" _Vogue claimed) dress was torn, her pink, lacy bra showing underneath and her hair, wet and knotted hung around her face like rats-tails, Isabel could see it.

Her frame was slight- though she was not thin and- what scared Isabel the most- she looked to be in her late teens.

"What's you're name, honey?" Isabel asked, smiling kindly at her.

"Beth," she sniffled. "Elizabeth Charleston."

"Daughter of Mike and Katie Charleston- the baseball player and his actress wife," went unsaid.

"How old are you Beth?" Isabel asked.

"Seventeen," Beth replied.

"Is she alright?" John's voice broke in.

"I'm...f-f-fine," Beth's voice shook and she burst into tears.

By now, a crowd had begun to form around the three of them in a half circle. People from the restaurant were there, as well as people who had been walking past the beach.

"I've called an ambulance and the police," one woman called.

"So have I," another man called.

"Is she going to be OK?"

"Should we let her parents know?"

"What happened?"

"The police are on their way!"

Comments, questions from concerned bystanders and statements flew over Isabel's head as she comforted Beth.

"You'll be OK," she said. "What happened? How come the boat didn't turn around for you?"

"It wasn't any of my friends in the boat, that's why. I was walking home when this...this _guy _grabbed me and...and then I think I rememberhim shooting a needle of something- a sedative of some kind- into my arm...and then I woke up on that boat...and I screamed...and I tried to grab him...but he threw me overboard...and I couldn't swim...and I was drowning...and then you saved me!" She finished, smiling weakly at John.

"Can you remember who the guy was?" John asked.

"Well...he was kind of tall...and-" she broke off as an ambulance came screaming up.

"Move out of the way!" A paramedic commended, pushing his way through the crowd. "Alright, Miss, we've got you!"

He gently assessed Beth's condition, and his colleague assessed John. "Are you OK?" Another paramedic asked Isabel if she was alright. "I'm OK...just a bit wet. I didn't have anything to do with this...I was just having dinner with John and came down to help him..." she drifted off.

"It's OK, Miss. You're probably suffering from shock...I'll bring something over for you," he walked off.

Isabel stepped backwards into the crowd. She found the manager of the restaurant and handed him 100 dollars for the meal. "Keep the change...it'll help pay for the damages..."

She walked off up the beach, still in a daze. She had no idea how she made it home that night, but make it home she did, arriving on Tina's doorstep at nine o'clock.

"Mia!" Tina cried, with a smile. "How'd it go?"

Mia burst into tears. Tina's face dropped. "Mia!" She said, hugging her friend. "What happened? Did he Stand You Up? Why are you all wet?"

She pulled her into the living room and between gulps Mia managed to tell her the whole story. Boris brought her a blanket and a hot chocolate. They spoke comforting words to her and said it was a terrible business.

"But at least they'll catch the kidnapper!" Tina said.

"K-kidnapper? What kidnapper?"

Tina quickly filled her in on the details. "Everyone he had kidnapped has died, but now with a living victim, they'll find him like that!" She snapped her fingers to illustrate her point.

**

* * *

**

Mia turned over again and listened to the rain pattering on the rooftop and skylight above her. She couldn't sleep. It wasn't just the scene from dinner that kept playing and replaying before her eyes...it was something else, too. She had begun to remember last night how she ended up ruler of Genovia. And that was _not _something she wanted to remember.

**

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**

_She made it to the bathroom just in time. She threw up violently again and again. Lilly came in and held her head._

"_Mia...God, Mia I'm so, so sorry..."_

_Mia stayed crouched over the toilet long after there was nothing left in her to throw up. Lilly left when her mother got back._

"_Mia..." her Mom tried to get her to talk. "Mia, I want you to know that what ever happens, I'm still here for you." She got up and handed her a glass of water. "You'll be OK. We'll get you through this."_

"_That goes for me too," said Mr Gianini. "I'm here for you, too."_

"_Meeah," Rocky managed, crawling over to his "big thithter". "Meeah." _

_The next few days were a blur. People- Michael, Lilly, Tina, Boris, Shameeka, Ling-Su, Perrin, Principal Gupta, Mamaw and Papaw, Hank and her mothers feminist friends- called her, leaving messages of condolence, pledges to "get her through it", offerings of support and the like, but there was nothing they could do. Mia refused to speak. _

"_Honey?" Helen asked, coming into her room on the third day of Mia not speaking. She sat down on the bed where her daughter was lying, curled up underneath the bed sheets._

"_It's the funeral in three days. You're expected to attend it...but if you don't want to, you don't have to. I'll sort out anyone who tries to make you go!"_

_There was no response._

"_Look Mia, I know this is harder for you than for most people, because there have been two deaths and because, being Princess of Genovia, you're expected to show the public that you are brave and capable of handling this, but we're all here for you...everyone..."_

"_Not everyone," said a muffled voice from underneath the duvet. _

"_What? What do you mean?" Helen asked._

"_Michael broke up with me," she said, and for the first time, started to cry. She came out from underneath the duvet in search of a tissue, but her Mom grabbed her and pulled her into a hug. _

"_Oh my God...I'm so, so sorry...oh Mia...my baby girl..."_

_It took Mia a moment to realise that her Mom was crying too..._

_A day later, Mia was listening to the messages on her answer-phone, before getting ready to fly to Genovia._

"_Mia...it's Shameeka here...I just wanted to say that I am so sorry for you...my Grandma died last year...and I wouldn't have been able to cope with the press following me and everything...I am so sorry...if you ever want to talk, then you know what number to call...bye"_

"_M-Mia, it's Tina-" the voice was broken by sobs- "I'm so sorry! I just wanted to say that-" she broke into a fresh wave of tears- "I'm really, really sorry!"_

"_Hello, Amelia, it's Principal Gupta here. First of all I would like to offer you my most heartfelt condolences on the terrible, terrible incident in Genovia, which resulted in the death of your father and grandmother; secondly, I would like to say that I will send on all of your school-work to Genovia so you can be home-schooled and graduate there. Goodbye."_

"_Mia. It's Lilly. I think you are the greatest person I have ever known...you are doing the right thing, taking up the crown of Genovia. I'll miss you...I know I haven't been the bestest best friend sometimes...but I've always thought that you were...are...the nicest, kindest, friendliest, most lovable...best aspiring writer person I have ever known. I'll miss you, my friend."_

_And the message she had been most dreading..._

"_Mia...it's Michael. I'm sorry. For everything. I---"_

_There was more, but she was in no mood to listen to it. She turned the answer phone off, unable to face any more "well meaning" messages. _

_She drove to the airport with just her Mom._

"_Mia," her Mom took her hands just as she was about to leave to board the plane. "You don't have to do this, you know."_

"_I know Mom. But I have to. For my country. And for my father," her daughter replied._

"_Mia...that speech would probably win you an Oscar...but this isn't Hollywood. I'm your mother, OK? And I'm NOT going to stand by and watch you ruin your life, becoming Queen of some obscure European country no-one's ever heard of-"_

"_I won't be Queen, Mom," Mia broke in._

"_I- uh...what? You won't be Queen?" Helen was confused._

"_Genovia's a Principality, Mom, so I'll be Princess, not Queen," her daughter stated calmly._

"_MIA! That has nothing to do with it! What I'm trying to say is...well, I love you, Mia. You're first and foremost my daughter. Nothing anybody says can or will change that. And you remember that, OK?" Helen looked at her daughter seriously._

"_Now who's auditioning for Hollywood?" Mia asked, the ghost of a smile forming on her face._

"_Mia!"_

"_The plane is ready for you, Your Highness," the voice of an attendant floated past the two of them._

"_Mom...my turn now...you are the best mother. I think that---"_

* * *

A pounding at the front door jolted Mia out of her dream...her nightmare. She heard the floorboards creak as Tina and Boris got out of bed. 

She opened her own bedroom door, and looked across the hallway at Tina, whose face mirrored her own confusion.

"What's going on?" Mia asked.

"I have no idea! Who comes to the door at this time of night? It's 2am!" Tina replied.

They made their way downstairs, the brightness of the electric light momentarily blinding them both.

Their eyes adjusted enough to watch Boris being handcuffed by two policemen. A third stepped forwards.

"Mrs Pelkowski?" The officer questioned. "I'm Officer Morton. I am arresting your husband on twenty-three charges of murder, and one charge of attempted murder."

* * *

**A/N **I apologise for the long wait for this story to be updated. Two words: 'Maths' and 'Coursework'. Blame the Maths Teachers! 


	9. Chapter 8

**DISCLAIMER: **Anybody who still thinks that I own it must be a few sandwiches short of a picnic, if you catch my drift...

**A/N: **Sorry it's taken such a long time for this to appear. I had exams, and real life got in the way. Two thank you-s: firstly to Di, for beta-ing and for not letting me forget about it ;-), and secondly to my friend AP, for putting up with me when I go on (and on and on...) about fanfiction. You are very patient. Also thanks for recently!

**

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**

Her watch read 6:00 am. Her mind was still at 3:00 am, when the Police had been banging down the door, stating they were going to arrest Boris.

"I'm Officer Morton. I am arresting your husband on twenty-three charges of murder, and one charge of attempted murder."

The words almost seemed to reverberate, like the noise when someone hits a cymbal. The sound got quieter and quieter...but the presence of the words still hung in the room.

Then there was the longest silence she had ever known. She lifted her head. She looked directly at her husband, taking in the bedraggled dressing gown, the pleading look on his face, the fact that he had "been late home from work" for the past few months...and the fact she thought that he had been having an affair with someone.

She could just imagine it in a magazine article. _"For most women, finding out that your husband isn't having an affair is good news. For Tina Pelkowski, it wasn't. Her husband hadn't been sleeping with women behind her back. He'd been murdering women behind her back..."_

"I'm Officer Morton. I am arresting your husband on twenty-three charges of murder, and one charge of attempted murder."

"OK," she replied, and ran from the room.

**

* * *

**

Mia watched her friend run from the room. The Officer looked sympathetically at her. "Friend of the family?" He asked.

"Yes," she replied. "My name's Mia Thermopolis-" she paused for a fraction of a second, waiting for him to say "hey- aren't you the Princess of Genovia?", but he didn't- "and I'm staying here with Tina and...uh...Boris."

"Yes," said the Officer. "Unfortunate business, this." He clasped his hands behind his back and bounced up and down on the balls of his feet whilst the other Policemen took Boris out to the Police car. He went quietly. There was an awkward silence for a few minutes.

"Umm...tell Mrs...Miss...your friend that if she wants to come and visit her...husband, that's fine, but she must be made aware that there will be at least one guard in the room for her own safety, and she may be called down to the Police Station for questioning. There is no evidence to suggest that she was involved in any of this, but we can't take any chances!" The Officer said, in his 'official' voice.

'_Sounds a little bit OTT' _Mia thought '_but I suppose it is "standard procedures". And he likes sounding like a police officer from _CSI _or something like that.'_

"OK. I'll tell her," Mia replied.

"Good. Anyway, I'd better be off," Officer Morton said, going back to look apologetically at his shoes. "I'm sorry this had to happen. You've heard about all the kidnappings I suppose?"

Mia nodded.

"Well, there was an attempted kidnap this evening- down by the _Spindrift _restaurant- do you know it? Anyway, an off-duty lifeguard saw what was happening, and went to rescue the girl."

"Did he really?" Mia asked, pretending to be surprised. "That was very brave!"

"Yes. Anyway, the girl was OK- just suffering from a mild form of shock-"

"I'm glad to hear that," interjected Mia.

"-and when we got to the hospital, she was recovered, and managed to describe to us the murderer. We sorted through our records, and matched him up with her description and the fingerprints we found on the boat she said he used..." the Officer trailed off. "And...well, you saw the rest..."

Mia nodded. "I'll show you to the door," she said. The Officer left and Mia shut the door with a sigh of relief. She went to find Tina.

"Tina," she called, climbing up the stairs. "Tina! Where are you?"

"I-in my room," her friend called back. Mia walked into the bedroom and saw her friend standing forlornly by the window.

"Do you...do you want to talk?" Mia asked her. Not that she would have known what to say to her to comfort her if she had said yes.

"No. No, I'm OK," Tina replied, in a cheerful voice that was obviously forced.

Mia's raised eyebrows were reply enough.

"Well, no, I'm not OK, but I think that that's allowed, seeing how my husband's just been arrested for murder, don't you?" Tina asked, sarcastically.

"Look, Tina, I'm really sorry...I didn't mean it to sound quite like that," Mia replied. "I just-"

Tina cut her off. "Look, I'm sorry too. But you've got to accept what comes, haven't you?"

"Err...I guess," said Mia, wondering where that statement had come from.

"I mean, I've been really lucky...well, mostly, with my life, and I've always accepted the good things that come my way, so really, I should be able to accept the bad things, don't you think?" Tina babbled.

"Tina, sit down. You'll start hyperventilating in a minute. That won't be good for the baby, will it?" Mia was worried about her friend. Floods of tears, she could cope with; insane rage, she could cope with; but insane, forced calmness she couldn't.

"Oh, God! The baby! Thanks for reminding me! I have an antenatal appointment today. Will you come with me? I don't want to go alone. Please, Mia," Tina was practically begging her.

"I...I...sure," said Mia, now more worried than ever about her friend. This wasn't natural.

"Thank you," Tina gushed. "Now, you go and take a shower, and I'll make breakfast, OK?"

Before Mia could say anything, Tina had left the room. Ten seconds later, she heard a crash and a petrified scream. She rushed out into the hallway. She looked down. "TINA!" She screamed, seeing her friend's lifeless form lying at the bottom of the stairs.

**

* * *

**

Michael stumbled out of bed, running a hand through his hair, and, with the other, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He checked the Called ID, then picked up the 'phone, barely managing to stifle a yawn.

"S-S-Sir," he yawned. "S'Moscovitz here. What is it?"

"Oh, sorry. Forgot about the time difference!" The Director said, breezily.

'_I'll say'_ thought Michael. '_I strongly object to being woken at six in the morning.'_

"Just thought you'd like to know that they've caught the kidnapper," the Director finished.

"Oh? Who is it?" Michael asked, trying to summon up some degree of enthusiasm.

"Boris Pelkowski," he replied.

"Boris...Pelkowski?" Michael asked, now fully awake.

"Yes," the Director said. "Do you know him?"

"Err...sort of," said Michael.

"Don't tell me; another one of your old school friends?" the Director asked.

"Uh...yeah," replied Michael, sheepishly.

"Dear God," said the Director, shaking his head. "How many more are going to surface out of the woodwork?"

**

* * *

**

"TINA!"

Mia rushed down the stairs. "Oh my God! Tina! Are you OK? Oh my God! Can you hear me? Tina!"

"I'd reply if you'd give me the chance," her friend said, groggily.

"Tina! Oh my God! I thought...I thought you were dead!" Mia said, tears welling up in her eyes.

"I'm...I'm OK," Tina replied. "Head hurts a little bit...but I suppose that's natural...nothing's broken, I don't think."

"Oh, thank God! I don't know what I would have done if...if..." Mia's voice trailed off.

"But I'm OK," Tina reassured her, sitting up carefully. "I'm not hurt. I was pretty lucky actually. I tripped when I was at the top of the stairs...goodness knows what could have happened! I was-" she broke off, giving a scream of pain.

Mia dropped down to her knees beside her. "Tina! Where is it? What hurts?"

"My...stomach...cramps...bad..." she grunted out, before giving another scream.

Mia pulled of her dressing gown, and placed it, rolled up in a ball, under her friend's head. "Just stay here. I'm going to call an ambulance, then I'll be right back."

Tina nodded, ashen-faced.

Mia picked up the 'phone and called an ambulance. She had just put the 'phone back, when Tina gave another scream, this time louder and more pain-ridden than the others had been.

"MIA!" She cried. Mia took hold of her hand and pushed her head back down, gently but firmly.

"You'll be OK,"she said, as much to reassure Tina as herself. "The ambulance is on it's way. You'll-"

She broke of as Tina, bent almost double, gave another gut-wrenching scream, which preceded a pool of dark red blood forming on the carpet beneath her. Tears poured down her cheeks.

"Oh God, Mia! It hurts so bad!" She sobbed. "I...I must have miscarried. Oh, my poor baby!"

Mia was amazed she was able to form a sensible sentence in the circumstances but she did, and the paramedics who arrived minutes later confirmed her statement. They insisted Tina go into hospital for 24-hour supervision to check her over and make sure she hadn't gotten concussion from the fall, and Tina insisted Mia came with her.

Mia looked at her watch. 7:00AM. It was going to be a long day...

**

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**

**A/N:** Thanks once again to the people listed above...and to all my reviewers thus far. Please, please tell me what you think (ConCrit welcome), else how am I meant to improve? Sorry this one's a little on the short side! –Cicilianna :D


	10. Chapter 9

**DISCLAIMER:** They're mine, all mine! No, of course they're not. Meg Cabot owns them, not me! _:sigh:_

**A/N:** Thanks once again to **Di-Pekka**, my fantastic beta and friend:D Author's plea: I crave reviews. _:sniffles and puts on dramatic voice:_ It's all I ask. . .

**

* * *

**

Michael saw her from the window of his apartment. The rain was coming down in sheets, and she was soaked. Her hair was stuck to her head, and her jeans and blouse were clinging to her like a wetsuit. He realised that she still had at least a mile to walk until she got to the Pelkowski's house.

'_She'll catch pneumonia soon,' _he thought. Her shoulders were stooped and her head was bowed low; he wasn't sure, but she may have been crying. . .although it could have been just the rain.

A car drove past, splashing a huge puddle all over her. She didn't bother to jump out of the way, and got even wetter. . .if that was even possible. He made up his mind. He ran down to the ground floor, and opened the front door.

"Mi-" he caught himself in time. "Isabel! ISABEL!" He yelled. She turned and looked over the road towards him.

"Come inside and dry off," he called. "I'll give you a lift home!"

"What?" Mia yelled back. "I can't hear you!" The rain was coming down even harder now, overflowing from the gutters and drumming on all surfaces.

"I SAID," Michael began, raising his voice to be heard above the rain. "COME INSIDE AND DRY OFF AND I'LL GIVE YOU A LIFT HOME!"

Shaking her head to show that she still couldn't understand him, she crossed the road. "Come inside and dry off, then I'll give you a lift home."

"Are you sure?" Mia asked.

Michael took hold of her arm and pulled her inside. "Yes," he replied.

**

* * *

**

". . .so then, when we got to the hospital the paramedics said that they wanted to keep Tina in for 24 hours supervision, but that she should be OK and then I caught the bus as far home as I could, but I had to walk the last 2 miles," she finished.

Michael handed her a mug. "Here," he said. "Drink this."

"What is it?" She asked.

"Hot chocolate!" Michael said. "Don't tell me you were looking for something stronger, Isabel? It's only 10 o'clock!" He finished, pretending to be shocked.

"Well, it's 5 o'clock somewhere!" She replied. "I've had one helluva morning!"

"So tell me," he said, looking at the girl sitting on his sofa dressed in a pair of his trousers and one of his shirts. "You were staying with the guy who tried to drown that girl last night?"

"Yeah. . ." Mia replied. "It's quite scary. Tina- his wife- thought he was having an affair, 'cause he kept coming home late and all that. Imagine. . .God!" She shivered.

There was a pause. "John. . ." she said, after a few minutes.

"Yes, Isabel?"

"I. . .I think you were really brave last night."

"It's my job," he said.

He plonked himself down on a chair, accidentally sitting on the TV remote, turning it on.

_". . .and people all over California will, I'm sure, be very relieved to_ _know that the Police have finally caught the man who has kidnapped and killed numerous young women over the past few months. Boris Pelkowski- a relatively unknown violinist- has not lived here for very long- moving to the area in February, as his deceased aunt left him her old house," _the newsreader said.

_"A spokesperson for Mrs. Tina Pelkowski-"_

"What the hell?" Mia asked. "Tina hasn't said anything at all. She doesn't have a spokesperson!"

"It was probably the police," replied Michael.

_"-said that she had "no clue what was going on" _(the newsreader said this in a tone which implied that Tina was lying)_ and that she was not suspected of being a part of it at all. Mrs. Pelkowski was apparently rushed to hospital in the early hours of the morning with suspected appendicitis, though reports vary. Our crime correspondent, Chris Sutherton, is at the scene; Chris, what can you tell us?"_

_"Nothing new, really, Rachel. Neighbors report seeing a police car arrive at the door at around 3:00am, followed by an ambulance at around 7:00am. Mrs. Pelkowski was taken out, clutching her stomach, surrounded by three paramedics and a woman believed to be a house guest."_

_"Is there anybody in the house at the moment?" Rachel asked._

_"Not that we know of, but reporters and journalists are congregating around the house, waiting for someone to come back. This is a huge breakthrough for the police, who, as I'm sure you know, were at a complete loss about what to do-"_

Michael turned to Mia. "You don't want to be watching this, do you?" He asked. Mia shook her head violently.

"Bloody press," she ranted. "What are they doing there? Who asked them to get involved? How am I meant to get home? One of them is bound to recognize me!" She paced up and down the room, running a hand through her hair.

"Recognize you?" Michael asked. His head swung up and down, as if he was watching a tennis match as he followed her up and down the room. "And keep still! You're making me sea-sick!"

Mia stopped pacing. "OK. . .John, I'm going to tell you something. . .well, strictly, I'm not supposed to tell you, seeing how I don't have anyone to protect me incase you turn out to be a mad stalker person. . .but I need someone to help me, and you did save me. . .I know a little bit about you; it's not like you're a _complete_ stranger. . .am I babbling? Yes, I am. . .sorry. It's just I need to tell you something very important, but I'm not meant to. . ." Mia was talking very quickly.

She took a deep breath. "Right, you know how I told you my name was Isabel Brown? Well it isn't. I'm. . .have you ever heard of Genovia?" She asked.

"Small country between France and Spain?" Michael said.

"France and Italy, but it doesn't matter. What I'm trying to say is. . .well, to cut a long story short, Tina invited me to spend a few weeks in California with her, but I didn't want anyone to know my real identity, so I assumed the name Isabel Brown, but really I'm called Princess Amelia Mignonette Thermopolis Renaldo, ruler of Genovia." She was still talking very quickly.

"Mia, I know," Michael said, cutting across her as she opened her mouth again.

"You. . .you know?" Mia asked.

"Sure I know, Mia. Don't you recognize me? Sure, I had to dye my hair, but-"

"Michael Moscovitz!" Mia cried

"The One and Only!" Michael replied. "I can't believe you didn't recognize me! I know I've dyed my hair. . .and we haven't exactly spoken to each other since the night of the car crash. . .God, I'm sorry. It must have been awful for you. . . "

"It wasn't exactly made any easier by you! The fact that you dumped me after you said that you wouldn't! We were meant to be together until we got married!" Mia said. She clapped her hand to her mouth. "I'm sorry- I didn't mean-"

"It's OK," said Michael. "You've every right to be mad at me. I was an asshole, and I'm sorry. But why don't we sit down and talk, now? 'Cause I've got a few things to tell you, Mia. Like how I'm a Special Agent, assigned to protect you, and-"

"Uh, maybe later. I've got to. . .uh, go get Tina!" Mia said, standing up and heading towards the door.

"But you said Tina was in hospital until tomorrow for supervision?" Michael questioned.

"Yeah, she is. I. . .uh. . .I meant to say. . .umm. . . 'I've got to go get Tina's pajamas, 'cause she doesn't like the hospital ones that they gave her'," Mia replied, opening the door.

"Thanks for your help, Michael. I appreciate it. I'll send your clothes back later!" She couldn't have gotten out of that door quicker if she was an Olympic sprinter. "Bye!" She called.

"Bye," he said, quietly, listening to the door open and close beneath him.

He walked over to the window and watched her hail a taxi and get inside. The taxi drove off at a remarkable speed. It was a black car, with the registration _B100 KLA_.

He walked away from the window, sighing. "That went well," he said to himself. "Way to go, Michael!" He pulled the TV guide out from under the sofa. Perhaps he'd watch a movie, if there was one on. The Director hadn't said anything about him going back- he may as well enjoy his "leave" while it lasted. Perhaps he'd give Lilly a call later. She'd want to know that he'd seen Mia.

The 'phone rang. "Hello," Michael said, picking it up. It was the Director.

"Moscovitz, just a quick note. Could you be on the lookout for a black car, make unknown with the registration plate reading _B100 KLA_? The Police are looking to, but just so you know, OK?"

"OK, sir, _B100 KLA_ it is," Michael replied, relieved he hadn't said anything about coming back, and hoping the weather cleared up soon so he could spend some time on the beach. "Bye!"

He hung up the 'phone. _B100 KLA_. . .

_B100 KLA! _

"Holy. . .!"

**Review!**


	11. Chapter 10

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Princess Mia and co. Woe is me, etc, etc

**A/N:** Here is the (hugely) overdue chapter ten. I am _soooo_ sorry this has taken so long to update, but first I was ill, then I was on holiday, then I had no Internet access (just don't ask). . .you know how it is, one thing leads to another, things happen, yadda, yadda, yadda. . .I'm sorry! Thanks to **Di-Pekka** for beta-ing. (HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Lol!)

-----

They took her blindfold off, but they didn't untie her wrists. Her kidnapper- one of them, anyway- turned and looked at her. "It is unlikely that anyone will drive past whilst we are getting out of the car, but as a precaution, this is what is going to happen," he said. "I am going to untie your hands whilst Tim-" he indicated the driver "-keeps you covered."

'_With the gun,'_ thought Mia.

The man indicated a slate-coloured men's trench coat. "This will be wrapped around both of us, which will make it easy for me to conceal the gun which will be pressed into your side and will also make it seem to any passers by- though I doubt there will be any- that we are good friends, trying to hurry in from the storm. Got it?"

Mia nodded. She doubted that he would shoot her- there was, no doubt, a 'higher authority' after her, or perhaps a ransom, but she wasn't willing to risk a bullet through the stomach- her eighth grade biology teacher had once told the class that: "Your stomach acid would kill you quicker than blood loss- and it's very painful. It would take around thirty seconds, but it would be the most painful thirty seconds of your life!" Her eighth grade biology teacher was only being melodramatic.

She hoped.

The man untied her wrists and wrapped the trench coat around her, whilst the other man- Tim, or Tom, or whatever he had said he was called- trained a gun on her. She wasn't willing to test her theory of them not shooting her.

They got out of the car and hurried into the set of apartments. Why, oh why, hadn't she had a bodyguard come on the trip with her? _'Because,'_ she told herself, _'You didn't want one. It's your own fault. Even Tina insisted you had one.'_

Outside, the apartments were old and dilapidated- there were broken windows on the first few floors, and unreadable graffiti had been sprayed on in blue paint. Inside there was a disgusting smell- Mia decided that she wasn't even going to try and work out what it was-, the lift was broken so they had to climb up the stairs to the top floor (were they going to hurl her out of the window?) and the building was generally a cliché of the type of place badly made action movies happen.

Or at least, the part where the heroine is being held hostage and the hero has to fight the baddies to save her. And he always wins, and the hero and heroine end up getting married. Or going out, at least. But Mia didn't have a hero to save her. . . no doubt Michael now hated her, and there never had been anyone else after him.

When they finally reached the fifteenth floor, there was a change. The corridor they turned onto had been cleaned, and a rug had even been put down. The air had been sprayed with liberal amounts of air freshener, so that it smelt of peaches, instead of God only knew what, and the door handles had been polished clean.

The man inserted a key into the lock of the last but one door, and opened it. The room was obviously a sitting room-cum-dining room- to the right there was a sofa, TV, a couple of chairs and a bookshelf, and to the left there was a dining table with a vase of flowers on it. Mia caught a glimpse of a pristine kitchen through a half open door, and a neat bedroom through another. There were also two closed doors- one of which she presumed had a bathroom behind it.

All in all, it wasn't the best suite at the Plaza, but it was defiantly in better condition than the rest of the building. Her kidnapper re-tied her hands and pushed her into one of the hard-backed chairs. He walked over to one of the closed doors, and knocked, three times.

Slowly, it opened. Mia gasped.

The woman who stepped out of the door had long blonde hair and big blue eyes. The woman who stepped out of the door was tall and slim, and was wearing a pair of pale blue jeans and a white blouse. The woman who stepped out of the door had been the 'star' of an advert for toothpaste earlier in the year; she had bared her clinically whitened teeth and told people to 'buy our toothpaste, for a cleaner, brighter life!'

The woman who stepped out of the door was Lana Weinberger.

"Hello Mia," she said. "Nice to see you again. Shame it has to be right before I'm going to kill you, but, still. What can you do?"

"I . . . what . . . you. . ." Mia stammered, amazed. She hadn't known who the ring-leader of this whole kidnapping thing was, but she certainly hadn't expected it to be Lana Weinberger.

"Yes, it is me. Lana. But we'll come to me in a minute. I gather you're now Queen of Genovia, correct?" she continued, as if they were meeting up at a High School reunion.

"Yes, I am _ruler_ of Genovia. Genovia is a principality, meaning I'm still Princess, and not Queen," Mia said, hardly able to believe that she was having this conversation with a person who wanted to kill her.

"Oh, yes. I'm sorry. A principality, of course. I must remember that. Anyway, I heard about the death of your grandmother and your father. I wasn't bothered, but manners matter, so I'll be polite and say that I am _very_ sorry," she carried on.

"Now, about your death. It is going to be very unfortunate, but all of these 'tragic'-" she made air quotes around the word 'tragic'- "have been. As you can see, there's some really bad weather going on at the moment. As soon as- oh, Marcus!" Lana called, as the man who had instructed Mia on how to get into the building, came into view.

"Yes, Miss Weinberger?" he asked.

"Bring me a glass of water, would you? And, before I forget, search the princess for a cell phone, please?" she asked.

Marcus did as he was told, first roughly manhandling Mia and producing an iPod and a cell phone. As he was opening a bottle of water from the fridge, Lana picked up the iPod, and looked through it.

"Theme from _Beauty and the Beast_? _Bootylicious_? Dear God, Mia. I suppose the next track'll be the Genovian National Anthem!" She accepted the glass of water handed to her by Marcus, and scornfully threw the iPod onto the table, by the cell phone.

Mia said nothing, sitting, stupefied, hearing the constant flow of Lana's words around her, but not really taking in what she was saying. All her mind could come up with was "_What the HELL?_" Why was Lana here? Why did she want to kill her? Who was Marcus? What was going on?

"Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, your death. Now, like I said, this bad weather that we're having is set to continue through the next few days, so the sea will be very rough. So, of course, the Police will put two and two together, and figure your boat capsized and you drowned. Pity, but, well, that's life, isn't it?" Lana said.

Mia didn't reply.

"Anyway, we've got some catching up to do!" Lana exclaimed. "I haven't seen you for _ages_! How've you been? And Lilly, and Tina, all that lot, how're they? Are you still seeing Michael?"

"We're all fine," said Mia, surprised once again by the turn of events, and how easy it was to slip into simple conversation with someone who had just told her that she wanted her dead. "And I'm not seeing Michael." Which was _technically_ true, if you took 'seeing Michael' to mean 'dating Michael', 'going out with Michael', 'having sex with Michael' or even 'being married to Michael'.

"Oh, I know, men are _such_ losers. I haven't heard from Josh since he left for collage! My parents made me go to finishing school in England, so I could lose my American accent, and start talking all posh," Lana continued. Mia had noticed that Lana's voice was mostly unaccented, but occasionally it would have an American twinge.

There was a pause then Mia said, "Lana, why are you doing it? You're rich, popular, pretty. . . why?"

"I was wondering how long it would be before you asked me that. Well, you see, it started when I got engaged. There was three weeks to go before the wedding, and he came to tell me that he'd knocked up one of the bridesmaids, and he had to marry her instead! I was heart-broken, but I didn't want to kill him, so I killed the bridesmaid instead. Then he would know what it was like for me to be heart-broken," Lana replied.

"And then, after that, one of Dad's clients sued Dad for an accident which was so totally her own fault, and my Dad went bankrupt. So I had to get rid of her, as well. Then it just. . . I don't know, became like an addiction. I couldn't stop doing it. So I decided to get rid of all the women who had made my life- and the lives of my friends- hell over the years. And, no offence Mia, but you are totally one of them," she finished.

"Oh. . .my. . .God. . ." Mia said, faintly. This was much harder to grasp than the fact that Lana wanted her dead. She could understand _that_. How many times had there been when they had been in High School and she had come _this close_ to causing Lana grievous bodily harm with a pair of compasses or her cheerleading pompoms? But that was stupid teenager stuff- it happened all over the world: popular girl picks on unpopular girl.

But killing? As in murder? And not just her- all those girls, all twenty-seven, or however many Tina had said it was? That was . . . unthinkable.

"You. . .you're. . .you're disgusting. You should be locked up. That's horrific. That's. . .I can't even. . . Their LIVES, Lana! People's LIVES! It's not just like a game, where they sit out for fifteen minutes. You're killing them. They won't come back. They're DEAD! DEAD! Can't you understand that!"

Lana smiled coldly. "I didn't kill any of them."

"You are just pure evil! You're sick. You're _twisted_! You should be locked up and never set- what? What do you mean, you didn't kill them?"

"Like I said, I didn't kill any of them. I _told others _to kill them. Others who I blackmailed into killing them- like Tina's precious Boris," Lana replied. "Also, I'd say that overall, we only managed to get about twelve of them. Not all twenty-seven. Some of them, I guess, died of, you know, natural causes, like they drowned, or the boat capsized. And, I don't know, maybe someone decided they liked what we were doing and thought that if they killed someone, the finger of suspicion would point at us, not them. Sorry, I'm not making much sense, am I?"

Mia opened her mouth to reply, though she had no idea what she was going to say, when there was a loud crash outside the door, a single gunshot, and Lana screamed.

She stood up, and pushed the chair which Mia was tied to over. She had only meant to get Mia out of the line of fire- she didn't want her killed by any other means than drowning, because otherwise the coroner might suspect something other than the usual death-by-drowning homicide-, but Mia hit her head on the table as she went down, and knocked herself out.

Her last conscious thought- OK, thought_s_, were of Michael- she thought she heard his voice cry out "Mia!", though she reckoned she was mistaken-, and the fact that whatever it was they put in gunpowder- sulphur?- smelt like rotten eggs.

She hated eggs, rotten or otherwise.

**A/N:** Confused? Don't worry; you're not alone- it's my general state of mind ;) ! Seriously, though, it will all be explained in the next chapter, as well as why Lana is so OOC, and why Michael is/isn't there, and if Mia's OK. Speaking of the next chapter, it will be here soon- or at least, sooner than this one was. Thank you all for being patient. And I _promise_ it won't take as long to update. Um. I think. . .


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